Never Again OneShots
by j3ntheninja
Summary: You asked, and we delivered! Now available for your reading pleasure, a series of one-shots based on our previous story Never Again! DeadMan'sHand702 coauthors. Rated T just to be safe :P
1. Chapter 1

**Authors' Note: **You asked and we delivered! These one-shots can do anything y'all want them to, so let us know what you'd like this set of characters to do in your wonderful reviews. We'll be updating this one with terrifying infrequency, though, based on inspiration and ideas received from you (our wonderful reviewers!)

-DeadMan'sHand702 & J3ntheninja

**Prologue: Bored!**

It was a normal day at Stark Tower. The Avengers were bored. That was never good. So far, Jarvis had informed Tony that the training room rafters were about to be yanked out of their supports because a certain archer had taken it upon himself to practice his gymnastic skills on them, that the stock of punching bags was being depleted at an alarming rate by one supersoldier and one Russian spy, that the living room walls were now decorated with electrical burns in the form of a large smiley face wearing a bow, that his credit card was racking up _inane_ charges at the nearby stores on Saks Fifth, that his supply of chemicals was growing steadily smaller as Bruce Banner experimented in the laboratory, that the shelf in the pantry reserved for Pop-Tarts was strangely empty, and that the aforementioned smiley face was now decorated with a goatee of arrows and throwing knives. Tony Stark put his head in his hands, bemoaning his sad fate as babysitter of the superheroes. Nick Fury had left on some 'business of national importance' and now the billionaire was stuck with the other eight Avengers. At least they wouldn't be wanting spaghetti tonight. He shuddered at the memory. _Note To Self: Boiling a pound of pasta in the Capsule's shield is __**not, repeat not**__ a good idea._ The man who could figure out the most complicated technology with a glance sat at his desk, wondering how on Earth he could possibly keep the members of the Avengers Initiative from destroying his beloved Tower.

**More Notes:** So sorry this was short, it's meant to be the springboard for more :P So hit us up! Tell us what these guys should do! Funny, sad, angsty, hurt/comfort, action, romance, bromance, fluff, holidays, whatever you can think of! Seriously. Keep the love coming!

-DeadMan'sHand702 & J3ntheninja


	2. Bromance

**Authors' Note: We sincerely apologise for disappearing for a few weeks. Things have been...quite hectic on this side of the screen. And they've promised to stay hectic for quite a while, sooo...how about this. We'll try our level best to update once a week, but no guarantees. It's the only compromise we can manage, sorry again :( But at least it's something, yeah? Anyway, the inspiration for this came from the wonderful Ktsteele! Thanks for the suppourt so far! Go ahead and leave a review for that you'd like to see us do in these shorts :)**

**-DeadMan'sHand702 & J3ntheninja**

**Bromance**

It was only after the first few attempts at lasagne had failed miserably that Clint stepped in, kicking the five would-be chefs out of the expansive kitchen and hauling his wife in to help him revive the mostly burnt to death pasta dish.

"Out!" he roared, glaring in mock-fury as Ace, Alex, Loki, Tony, and Thor scrambled out of the overheated and messy room. He looked down at the pan, cringing at the sight that met his eyes. A crumpled mass of dehydrated pasta crusted the rim and inside of the glass, promising to be diamond-hard by now. Natasha's only comment was,

"Yuck."

He looked over at her and grinned impishly.

"Oh no. Heck to the no-" She was cut off as he shoved the pan into her hands and steered her towards the sink. She scowled back at him.

"You, Clint Barton, are an evil man."

He gave a bow. "But you love me."

"Don't push it."

He kissed her on the cheek and waltzed over to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients for a proper lasagne from the shelves. The two assassins worked quietly for a while. Well, before Tony Stark sidled up to the counter and took it upon himself to oversee the proceedings. Natasha held up the pan from where it had been buried in soapy water, offering up an angry exclamation in Russian. Clint glanced over and she raised her brows at him, gesturing to the mass of pasta that was still clinging stubbournly to the glass. He shrugged angelically and turned back to the lasagne. Tony craned his neck to see what the archer was putting in the dish. Of course the billionaire wasn't satisfied with it.

"Clint! Why are you putting that much basil in the red sauce?! That'll ruin it for sure!"

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent glared at him, as if challenging Tony to criticise his recipe further. Tony raised his hands in surrender but was not about to shut up, shuffling into the kitchen and snatching an egg from the carton.

"You know, they say if you hold an egg like this no matter how hard you squeeze you can't break it..." He concentrated on the white oval in his hand and clenched his fingers together. He succeeded in breaking it, much to his delight, but also succeeded in getting it all over Clint. The archer turned towards him with murder in his eyes. Tony held up his hands innocently.

"You wouldn't..."

Clint pointed at the exit with his wooden spoon. "_Out._"

"All right, all right. I can see when I'm not wanted." The genius slunk off to rid his hands of eggshells. Natasha snorted a laugh and came over to her husband with a washcloth.

"Remind me again why we keep him around?" The archer muttered.

"I don't actually know why..." she replied, stifling a laugh.

#

Ten minutes later the kitchen was mostly cleared and the lasagne popped in the oven. Clint lifted a bottle of expensive claret from Tony's 'secret' stash (seriously, he should know by now that living with two trained assassins was a guarantee of getting your secrets found out) and poured two glasses. He took one and Natasha reached for the other.

"Why thank you, Clint. After all, wine between bros is the best," interjected Tony, snatching the glass before she could reach it. She crossed her arms and frowned at him. He held his hand up for a high five and Clint slapped it.

"Yeah! Don't even try, Romanoff. We share a bromance so awesome it could bake that lasagne over there with its pure amazingness."

The look of utter terror that passed over Clint's face right then looked like it belonged in a five-star horror movie. Tony rolled his eyes. Honestly, the guy was as clueless as Capsicle sometimes.

"Oh come _on,_ Feather Boy. Bromance isn't _that_. It's where two bros such as ourselves have this awesome _FRIEND_ship that is epic and can kick butt."

Clint relaxed, albeit marginally. Tony grinned innocently. Natasha fell over laughing.


End file.
